


Pour la vie

by chezamanda



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, F/M, Ficlet, Post-World War II, Request Meme, Reunions, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chezamanda/pseuds/chezamanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour la vie

**Author's Note:**

> If only I could make money off of this stuff.
> 
> Requested by [stageandhistory](http://stageandhistory.tumblr.com/) for this song + couple + AU ficlet request meme - "La vie en rose" + Clintasha + WWII AU.

Natasha looked at her watch. Quarter after nine. He was late; he always was late. She looked around at the couples with their arms slung around each other, leaning against their partner’s body with their eyes closed. The outside world didn’t exist to them. 

Staying behind in Paris and working with the resistance had been her choice, but it had also meant letting Clint go. She hadn’t heard from him in over two years, and for a good portion of that time, she had presumed the worst. As though some higher power had intervened, a letter appeared in the post in his messy handwriting that said he would be back in Paris and that they should meet. He suggested the place where they had first met during the war, the big softy. 

Natasha pulled the well-creased letter from her handbag and looked at it again to make sure she hadn’t gotten the date wrong. She had read and re-read that paper so many times that it could easily be quartered along the fold lines. It said nine on the page, she hadn’t been wrong. With an annoyed huff, Natasha stuffed the letter back into her bag.

“Care for a dance, miss?”

Natasha paused; she knew that voice.

Turning in her seat, Natasha came face to face with a very well kempt, clean-shaven Clint Barton in his dress uniform. The words caught in her throat, too shocked by the fact that he was standing in front of her. Not knowing what else to say or do, Natasha pulled him into a fierce hug that made him laugh in surprise. Those years of separation seemed to melt away as she held him against her body. He felt the same, smelled the same, and it was just too perfect. She thought for a moment that she must have been dreaming, but a sharp pinch to her arm proved otherwise.

“You’re late,” she said, smiling up at him and reached up to touch his face.

Clint caught her hand in his and turned, pressing his lips against her palm. “Think you can forgive me, Agent Romanova?”

“Maybe just this once.”

The music changed to a new song, still slow and romantic, and Clint lead her out onto the small dance floor. Just like the other couples, Natasha wrapped her arm up around Clint’s neck and leaned into him as they quietly swayed along to the French tune. The woman on the song sang about the man she loved and how he made her see the world in a different light. Though Natasha would never admit it, Clint had changed her dismal outlook on life, gave her something to hope for in the darkness that had fallen over her life, particularly during the war. Her hand tightened around his and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

Clint curled one finger beneath her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his, before leaning in and kissing her. She clung to him, feeling as though her legs had been swept out from beneath her at his touch. 

“I missed you so much,” she sighed against his mouth. 

“Missed you too,” he said, stroking her hair away from her face.

They waited until the end of the song before they left the bar and made it back to her apartment as quickly as they could manage. Clothes were shed and forgotten on the floor and they lost themselves in the warmth of each other’s bodies over and over again. Natasha lifted her head, seeing the greyish morning light shining around the shutters and realized that they had been at it for hours. 

“Still awake?” Clint asked softly, his hand lazily stroking her bare back.

“Mm, for now,” she said and nuzzled beneath his chin.

Clint carefully rolled them so that he could reach down to the floor for something. Laughing, Natasha tried to push his weight off of her until he finally moved. He pressed something small and metal into the palm of her hand and looked at her expectantly. She looked down at what he had placed in her hand and realization hit her like a truck.

“Clint, I…” she stammered, blinking at him in disbelief.

It was a ring.

His eyes were hopeful and shining as he looked at her. “So we’ll never be apart again.”


End file.
